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Friday, March 26. 2010
Crazy, Man!
Ever wonder what to do with yourself on a sunny day? I’m sitting here thinking of something witty to write when actually, the thought crossing my mind is to see if there’s time to catch the lunch special at Cheetahs.“What on Earth,” you might be asking, “Is Cheetahs?”
It’s a dance club in Kearny Mesa, my favorite in Sandy Eggo as a matter of fact. You pay the cover charge, $10.00, and then, while being entertained, you get a free lunch! Burgers, hot dogs, tater chips and the like.
Of course, if you can get in and out of Cheetahs for just the cover charge, you’re a better man (or woman) than I. Or stingier man (or woman). Okay, further explanation: it’s not the kind of dance club with a DJ pounding out electronica house music for men and women to dance to while trying to score a little nookie. No, it’s what we used to call a “Gentleman’s Club.” The music is usually old glam metal rock or new rap hip-hop with a heavy beat and only the women dance. Get it? If you don’t, go ask your wife or mom.
But we’ll skip all that, as tantalizing a subject as it is. No, this really blew my mind today while riding the Number 20 bus home from work, the Trusty Trek snugly hitched into bike rack on the front.Usually, I prefer sitting in the front of the bus, being as close to the Trusty Trek as possible. People admire that bike, even with its chipped paint, spots of mud and blood and the Greenpeace sticker. It’s a Trek, people notice.
So, today the Number 20 wasn’t all that crowded so I was up front, sitting comfortably in one of those sideway bench seats. Across the aisle were two homeless gentlemen, at first discussing the general ethnic breakdown of Mira Mesa, which has a large Asian-America population and quite a few Hispanics. Their conclusion on that topic: Blacks and Whites would get lynched were they to get off the bus at Mira Mesa Blvd.
I was thinking, “I’m getting off on Mira Mesa Blvd. (again), wonder if I’ll get lynched.” As you are reading this you can guess I haven’t been lynched.
But then, and this is what really blew my mind, they linked race relations in Mira Mesa to the philosophy of the epic World War I novel, Johnny Got His Gun.
I kid you not.
The jump from race relations to Johnny Got His Gun took a skip on the rock of Metallica’s “One,” which was inspired by the book and featured clips from the 1971 film version starring Timothy Bottoms as Joe Bonham.
Johnny Got His Gun is an anti-war novel written by Dalton Trumbo in 1938, based on the Prince of Wales’ visit to a Canadian veterans hospital shortly after World War I. The main character, Joe Bonham, is left without his legs, arms and face, unable to communicate, a prisoner in his own mind and body.Sadly, I got off the bus on Mira Mesa Blvd, just as the two homeless guys started getting all fired up about the book and the Metallica video for the song “One.” Apparently, according to these two guys, there is a hidden message in the song and video, censored out so the song could be heard on the radio and the video broadcast on MTV. The hidden message, I would assume, has something to do with immigration and race relations.
Intrigued, as soon as I got home I Googled it. Got all sorts of information on the band and the song — and some information on the book I couldn’t either remember or didn’t know — but couldn’t find anything about any hidden messages in the song or video.
That’s the thing with some of the poor and homeless. Some of them have excellent educations, have a great grasp of those topics they may have studied, but then off they go into tangents that get you scratching your head.
“What the Hell are they talking about,” you ask yourself? It’s best not to ask them or get involved in the conversation. The two doing the arguing will take umbrage, mob up and turn their vitriol towards you.
Usually, as one is trying to make points over the other, the volume and tone of their conversation gets elevated and more excited. You’d think they were about to get into a fistfight — and sometimes the bus driver has to tell them to STFU.
But usually, the debaters calm down, go back to just staring off into the void and sit quietly while they wait for their stop to arrive. Once in a while they will check out everyone in their area, look, up and down, every person getting on or off the bus, but they generally keep quiet.
Actually, the bus, with passengers, arrives at the stop. But, as a passenger, sitting there waiting, the perspective is turned around. The stop arrives.
Strangely, that phenomenon doesn’t occur when I’m either driving or riding in an automobile. I’m traveling and will arrive at my destination. Riding public transit though, one develops an entirely different perspective on commuting.Most of the bus ride arguments fade off as the two antagonists lose steam. Once in a while though actual fights break out on the bus. That sucks because then the bus driver has to stop, call it in and have the Police intervene and the rest of us are stuck on the bus for what seems like an eternity. Been there and done that twice now.
For a while I was thinking how unfortunate it was to miss the rest of the discussion about Johnny Got His Gun, but on the other hand, maybe it was a blessing. Crazy people encourage other crazy people and most people who know me know I don’t need much encouragement.
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